Candlelight and Silent Night
by graywords-girl
Summary: [OoT]. Two ficlets written for the 50scenes challenge on LiveJournal. [MalonSheik][Minor hints of abuse in fic number 2]


**Candlelight**

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_A/N: Another one shot for the 50scenes challenge. Again, Malon/Sheik. The prompt was "Burn"._

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Night had fallen hours ago, and outside, the sounds of creatures stirring and crawling about could be heard, howling in the distance. Malon did her very best to ignore it. On most nights, she was asleep by now, and thus didn't have to worry about those terribly odd and horrible noises creeping in through the cracks in the frame of her home, but tonight was a sleepless one, and she was fully aware and rather scared. Not that she would admit it, of course. She was a grown woman, nearly nineteen now, and in charge of her ranch once again. She couldn't very well be afraid of bumps in the night, now matter how loud they might be. 

Currently, she was sitting in the dining room in her nightgown, stretched out half on top of the table with her arm curled around a candlestick, close enough to feel the warmth, but far enough away so that her sleeve couldn't catch fire. Across from her, leaning against the wall near the window, Sheik stood, arms crossed impatiently, eyes narrowed down to near slits. He'd left his face covered, a testament to his own nerves; normally he pulled the scarf away when he was in her presence. Tonight, however, she would ignore it. She had no reason to start a mindless quarrel with him tonight.

They were waiting. Which, really, wasn't all that different from usual. Really, she should have been used to it by now. After all, for the past six months, her Ranch had become their 'head quarters' of sorts; they met in her dining room when they needed to plan, surrounded by the wonderful fragrances of whatever she happened to be cooking; slept in the barn when they needed rest; used the horse track for practice when they needed to train; and talked to her when they needed someone to simply listen. And, in turn, she got two very healthy, strong young men willing to help her with her chores and suffer through her own aimless chatter, and occasionally exchange friendly banter if things were going well. Suddenly, without realizing it, Malon had found herself with two older brothers.

Er... well... one older brother and one --she snuck a glance at Sheik, and then looked away, blushing slightly-- something else. She wasn't ready to call him a brother just yet. Not when there was the possibility of something _more_.

Currently, they were waiting up, listening for the tell tale sounds of Link coming back. In truth, he should have been back hours ago, and that's why they were so worried. Nothing should have kept him this long. Or at least, nothing_ good_. Malon wasn't entirely sure what the circumstances were, this time. She knew he was out looking for another of those Medallion-thingies, but other than that, she was distinctly without a clue. She did know, however, that for some reason Sheik was not permitted to help Link unless it was of dire importance, and more often than not, when the young Hero finally did return, he required some form of medical attention. Malon was no nurse, but she could tie a decent bandage.

Another howl rose up from outside, and she shivered, fear tickling down her spine. She hated the nighttime... really hated it. From his place by the window, Sheik shifted his weight uncomfortably, apprehension rising up.

With a soft sigh, Malon brought her free hand, the one she had been cradling in her lap, up and gently ran it across the flame. It was a nice distraction. The candlelight flickered, giving off a pleasant warmth that she felt drawn to. Absently, she left her hand hover above it, gently teasing the fire with her fingertips, feeling her skin heat up slowly, before pulling away right before she could truly get burned. A dangerous game, but it required enough of her attention that she couldn't focus on the rising tension in the room. Another swipe, this one a bit more delayed, a bit closer to the flame. Once more, in a similar pattern. Once--

A hand shot out and caught her fingers, keeping them still. Blinking in surprise, she looked up slowly, meeting the eyes of the young Sheikah, and for a split instant, she was left breathless, because the way the firelight reflected in his ruby orbs could only be described as enchanting. And, though his grip on her hand was firm, she knew he was being careful not to hurt her; only to make a point. "Stop that." He stated, in a way that would normally be described as a mutter, but that description didn't quite fit. "You're going to burn yourself."

She watched him for a moment, and his gaze softened just a bit under her stare, and the grip became more of a clasp, and then eased into such a fleeting brush of skin that it was nothing more than a caress, and yet it was still almost frighteningly intimate for him, so she kept her mouth closed and gave a slow nod, which seemed to satisfy him, because he released her then, and she was startled to realize that immediately she missed the warmth of his hand on hers. She wasn't sure how long they watched each other, but it was long enough that the first rays of sun streamed in through the window, and the howling from outside ceased abruptly, and, behind the sounds of the Cuckoos waking up and the horses demanding attention, she noted the sound of hoofs hitting the dirt in a gallop, and with soft release of breath, the moment was broken.

Link was back. Day had arrived. She needed to make the preparations to treat her Fairy Boy, and Sheik needed to interrogate him thoroughly thereafter. Pushing out of her chair, she moved for the stairs while the Sheikah went for the door.

On the table, the candle flickered out.

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**Silent Night**

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_A/N: Another oneshot. This one is unrelated to "Candlelight". Same pairing, same challenge. Note: There are suggestions of abuse here. It's not too obvious, but it's there. And Hurt/Comfort-ness too._

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The night air was cool. The sun had fallen hours ago, and the temperature in that time had dropped from the usual boiling hot to a pleasant warmth, interrupted every few minutes by a soft breeze. It was surprisingly calm, as well. Everything was still, but not in a way that might suggest something was wrong. It was simply a very good night, the first one to strike Hyrule in many years, and it seemed even those who were oriented on the side of evil had decided it was too nice out to do anything more than hide away and wait for the next chance, the next night. A rare occurrence. Very rare indeed.

But it was also silent, which pretty much shattered any semblance of peace in this particular area. Lon Lon Ranch was never silent. Not at night, and certainly never during the day. It worried Sheik, for a reason he couldn't quite recognize. He'd been to the Ranch several times over the past few years, before for supplies or to borrow a horse for the longer journeys, and lately upon the 'request' of a certain Hero. Really, he couldn't quite understand what was so special about the place. It was an ordinary Ranch, with animals that were perhaps mildly above average, but certainly nothing to get excited about. And yet, still, the first thing Link had done after the awakening was come here.

Sheik, himself, had been dragged out with his charge several times since then. Oddly enough, they only ever visited at night. Never during the day. He couldn't quite understand the logic of that, but he kept silent about, and let the Hero introduce him to a rather stubborn and irritating horse named Epona, and the local farmgirl, whose name escaped him. Marin? Maren? Something like that. What really surprised him was the fact that the girl wasn't even slightly friendly towards either of them. She was polite, but very forward, and the first few times had come very close to throwing them both out. That is, until Link had pulled out his Ocarina and played a song that Sheik wasn't familiar with. The girl, obviously, had been, because she had warmed to them immediately. As had the horse, for that matter.

And since then, the sound of singing had been heard from Lon Lon Ranch, every night. It seemed it was a ritual for the girl, to come out and sing her dead mother's song. According to her, night was the only time she could. This had surprised Link, and when he had asked her why, she had avoided his gaze and absently rubbed her arm where, beneath the sleeve, Sheik had caught sight of a rather ugly bruise in the shape of a hand. The Hero hadn't quite understood, but the Sheikah had.

But still, she sang every night, without fail. It was completely unlike her to simply skip it. And, besides which, he had the distinct impression that something wasn't quite right. He was alone, this time. Link was off trying to get himself killed somewhere in the Lost Woods, and it was a task that, frankly, Sheik wasn't interested in helping him with. He'd had other things to do. Like investigate the silence radiating from Lon Lon Ranch.

Epona was out, he noted, as she trotted up to him and nuzzled his shoulder. Now that she was familiar with him, she was a rather friendly horse, and he found that he didn't mind so much. But this only increased his worry; Epona was the farmgirl's "baby". She had taken care of the horse as if it were her own child. She certainly wouldn't simply leave her outside alone. Epona, either reading his thoughts or reading his movements (smart horse that she was), gave him a firm push in the direction of the barn, nickering loudly until he finally started to walk. She continued to urge him and make noise, up until a light flickered on in the upper story of the house nearby.

The window opened, and a rather ugly looking man with an unbecoming mustache stuck his out and shouted a random profanity, aimed at the horse, before chucking a boot at them, missing by about ten feet. The window slammed shut violently, and the light flickered off. Sheik was somewhat startled by that; he hadn't known that anyone else worked at the Ranch. He didn't have very long to consider this, however, as Epona gave him a forceful push once again, and then trotted off alone, heading towards the barn and pawing the ground around the door. He followed, mainly because he had the distinct impression that she wouldn't leave him be until he did.

The barn doors were unlocked, but heavy, and so they creaked as he pulled them open. It seemed loud to him, and distantly he wondered if perhaps he had woken up the man he that had shouted earlier, but he didn't care much. The man hadn't seemed very friendly, and if he felt like being brave and trying something, Sheik had no doubt that he could handle it. Inside, the animals gave him a single look, and then went back to rest or munching or whatever it was that farm animals did late at night, obviously satisfied that he was no threat, to them at least. Epona trotted in quietly and moved straight for the back of the barn weaving past one row of stalls, and then coming to a halt. From where he stood, Sheik could only see her neck and long face, as well as her tail, flicking back and forth in a motion that could clearly be read as impatience. She neighed once, to gain his attention, and then again to hurry him up, because clearly the silly human was taking far too long for her liking.

He followed her path, surprised to find a bit of curiosity bubbling up within him. Epona had proven herself to be rather intelligent, compared to the other horses, and the fact that she had actually led him to something put her on a completely different level. He'd dealt with horses before, even intelligent ones. None of them came close to her. He rounded the stalls, and she moved aside, giving him a clear view of... something vaguely resembling a human, curled up in a pile of hay. And, it was shivering. Epona nickered, loudly, and the form shifted, a dull mumbling rising up in a voice that, although it was rougher than usual, he recognized.

"Mm... go 'way 'Pona..." The figure, the farmgirl --what _was_ her name? Ma-something, he was sure...-- mumbled out, slurring the words and make a little noise out of the back of her throat to finish the sentence. She sounded exhausted, and even as he watched, her breathing evened out but remained rather shallow. Slowly, taking care to keep his steps silent, he approached, hesitated, and then knelt down, one knee touching the hard wooden floor. As gently as he could --which, he suspected, wasn't all that gently at all, considering it had been some years since he had made any reason physical contact with someone that wasn't in the form of combat-- he touched her shoulder. Almost as if by instinct, she turned, rolling onto her other side so that she was facing him, and he noted that she flinched slightly as well. He paused, waited for her to fall back into a deep sleep, and when he was certain that she wouldn't wake if he touched her again, gently brushed the back of his knuckles against her forehead, his eyes narrowing. He'd had a suspicion of it when he touched her shoulder, and now that his skin was against her own, he was sure of it: she had a fever. Not one that was dangerously high, but it was cause for mild concern. Her skin was flushed slightly, red tinting her cheeks in an unnatural blush, and he felt dried sweat sticking to her brow. And, it seemed as though she were in the clutches of a nightmare of sorts, because every few seconds her face would pinch together in a look that was nearly painful.

He wondered, distantly, how long she'd been ill for. A fever like the one present usually didn't just appear one night. It was a gradual thing that crept up on a person. She must have noticed it before. And yet, there were fresh stains on her skirt and new scratches on her arms from feeding the Cuccos. She'd been working, just as always, when she should have been resting and fighting off sickness. He wasn't sure if he should roll his eyes at her stupidity or respect her for her dedication to her work. Although, it wasn't probably all dedication that had pushed her to work so hard. There were other ways of urging that type of work. _Like fear, _he thought, catching sight of an ugly looking cut peeking out from the collar of her shirt that was certainly _not_ from a Cucco. He was unsurprised, but still a little resentful towards the cause of it. Although he had never admitted it, he had a small fondness for the hardworking, caring farmgirl. He had very few people to consider 'friends', and she had somehow wormed her way there. Which was why he didn't really think twice about summoning forth one of his meager possessions to help her.

The bottle was smaller than most, designed for carrying small amounts of things, like Healing Water or, more practically, Faeries. The small created floated around inside, fluttering its wings in irritation. It was fresh; he'd caught it just a few days earlier, and obviously unused to captivity, because every few minutes it would make a dart at the side of the bottle and slam right into the glass, jumping back in surprise and shock. Faeries were, generally, very small minded folk, and had very short memories. It took days for a Faerie to learn that, yes, even though it looked like it could fly away, there was in fact a barrier between it and the outside world, and even then it was only from conditioning, usually from them smacking into said barrier so many times that they began to associate it with pain. Generally, they were reguarded as rather stupid creatures. (Of course, there were exceptions, like the Great Faeries, who offered gifts to those they found deserving, or the Faeries that adopted Kokiri children, but still...)

It seemed this particular Faerie was in luck, however. With little effort, he popped the top off of the bottle, and then shook the tiny creature out, just in front of the farmgirl. The Faerie tumbled out, shook itself in surprise, and then immediately darted around the girl, its dust falling on her cheeks and eyelids and, for a moment, making her look very Fae-like. The creature hovered for just a split second, to see that its work was finished, and then flew away faster than Sheik's eyes could catch. The change in the farmgirl --really, he knew she had a name; he thought about it hard for a moment, and then very nearly smacked himself for his own stupidity at forgetting it, considering how many times he'd heard Link chatter away about her-- _Malon_ was evident immediately. Her skin returned to its normal hue, her breathing eased, and the fever that had plagued her had all but vanished.

It seemed the nightmares, however, were of her own making, and not the fever's. She still looked rather distressed, if not healthier, and now every few moments she mumbled something incoherent, but frightened. And, although it was not his problem, he felt the urge to help her through this trial as well. So he settled more comfortably beside her on the floor, now noticing for the first time the personal effects that littered this particular corner. It was suddenly very obvious that she lived here, which made him somewhat angry, thinking of the man sleeping some yards away in a comfortable bed. With a sigh, knowing there was nothing he do about that, he summoned his harp and then paused. How did that song go again? The one without words that he was always hearing Link and Malon perform. His fingers slowly plucked a few strings, almost hesitantly, before finding the right starting notes.

For the next few hours, "Epona's Song" could be heard floating up into the night air around Lon Lon Ranch. Malon slept better that night than she had in years.

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_A/N:_ **Please Review!**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own the characters or series, as much as I'd like to. I just own the idea.

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